


Cared For

by hannigramcracker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannigramcracker/pseuds/hannigramcracker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A patient spilling some perfume is bad news for Hannibal and his sensitive nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cared For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxontherun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxontherun/gifts).



> This is a fic for sartorialcannibal over on tumblr. She posted a prompt earlier that I just could not let go of. 
> 
> " Someone write me a Hannigram hurt/comfort sick fic where Hannibal gets a migraine because of his hyper-sensitive nose (good enough reason as any) and Will takes care of him and there are lots of cuddles and then in the morning when Hannibal feels better he lets Will fuck him into the next dimension because he hasn’t had anyone care for him since he was a small, small boy and he feels profound love and affection for his murder boyfriend."

Hannibal had known this was coming.

He had known it from the moment that he had let his first patient into his office that morning. It was a gray, rainy day and a small amount of tension had already been building between his shoulders and up his neck. He certainly wasn’t as young as he used to be. He had tried his best to put the budding headache from his mind, and he had almost succeeded.

That is, until this patient rose from her chair after an hour of speaking in circles and messy tears that Hannibal could not quell, and did not care much to try. She had picked up her bag, and promptly dropped it - spilling its contents all over the floor. Hannibal bit the inside of his cheek and graciously offered his assistance. His patient was already scrambling to the floor, not watching what she was doing in her flustered state. Her knee landed directly on top of the bottle of perfume that had been in her bag. The bottle broke and the scented liquid oozed forth from the cracks.

His patient had apologized profusely, and Hannibal had insisted all was well, all the while trying not to cringe at the cheap and garish scent of drugstore perfume. It was worse than Will’s aftershave and it was seeping into the very fibers of his carpet.

He had tried to soak up some of the mess before his next appointment arrived, and he was sure he had cleaned up most of it, but the harsh chemical scent was stuck inside his nose. His fingertips smelled like something sickeningly flowery from trying to clean it up and a whiff of it hit his nose every time he moved his hand. He was positive the stench still hung in the very air as well, and though he opened as many windows as he could without letting the rain come in, he could smell it as though his patient was standing behind him spraying on herself every five minutes.

What started out as a mere annoyance soon manifested into a dull throbbing behind his left eye. Every breath he took assaulted his senses with the sharp and cloying scent, coupled with the smell of each of his patients, it was all he could do not to gag. His throat was dry no matter how much water he tried to sip discreetly before asking generic questions of his patients. He wasn’t really listening when it came to his final few of the afternoon, he could barely hear anything over the pounding in his head and the blood that came to rush in his ears whenever he tried to turn his head. The dull throbbing had turned to a sharp pain that almost drove his eyes shut. The light was quickly becoming too much, his eyes watered with it. Each time he looked up from the notepad in front of him to his patient he saw double until his eyes adjusted.

He rubbed the heel of one of his hands against his left eye, which now felt as though it was being stabbed with a hot knife from behind. Hannibal had to work to bite back a gasp of discomfort. The pressure did nothing to cause the pain to abate, in fact it seemed to bloom and blossom and dance in colors spreading behind his right eye as well.

“Doctor Lecter, are you alright?” His patient’s voice, mercifully soft, cut through his thoughts. He tried to look up at the man in the chair across from him, but his vision was framed in black and he knew moving any more than was necessary would not be a particularly good idea.

“I am terribly sorry, Alan, I am feeling quite ill suddenly. May we reschedule the rest of your appointment for another time this week perhaps?” Hannibal said, his teeth gritting of their own accord.

“Of course, Dr. Lecter. It’s no problem at all. I hope you feel better quickly.”

Such a polite patient, Alan was. Hannibal reminded himself to make a note of that once he was feeling better. Hannibal rose and somehow found himself ushering Alan across his office. He held the door open, graciously nodding to Alan’s well wishes.

Hannibal closed the door, gripping the knob with one hand and sighing deeply. He clenched his eyes shut and indulged in a moan as the room spun around him. He felt terribly lightheaded, but he knew he had a few more appointments to cancel before he could get himself away from the awful smell in his office. He would also have to call a cleaner if he wanted to resume his sessions any time within the next month. He reached out, eyes still closed, and flicked the light switch into the off position, casting darkness around his office.

His shoulders sagged slightly in relief even before he opened his eyes. He rubbed at his eyelids before cracking them and all but stumbling back to his desk. His limbs felt rubbery and heavy and he was slightly alarmed at how little control he had over them. His hands felt shaky as they leafed through his schedule, looking for the numbers to call. He felt strikingly rude for cancelling on such short notice, but his stomach was beginning to churn in tandem with the pounding of his head and to top it all off he could still smell the awful synthetic scent of the perfume. It lingered on everything in the room and moved and travelled through the air with his every breath. There was no way he could sit through one more session.

He placed two calls, and cancelled his last two appointments with relative ease. He never cancelled; it was rude. His patients must have been able to hear the pain in his voice and questioned nothing, only wishing him a speedy recovery.

Hannibal leaned back in his chair for a moment, eyes closed and breathing shallowly, trying to collect himself enough to call Will and cancel their appointment - the only one he felt any true remorse for. He pinched the bridge of his nose and laid one hand delicately over his still angry (and getting angrier) stomach. The pounding in his temples came to a startling head that knocked the breath from his lungs. He swallowed back a grunt along with the saliva that had begun to pool beneath his tongue. Sweat prickled the back of his neck and he felt goosebumps break out on his forearms. His teeth chattered and he rose from his desk without a hint of grace, his appointment book falling to the floor as he stumbled, fully this time, to the small bathroom that connected to his office.

He threw the door shut behind him and distantly hated the creases that were no doubt appearing on his slacks as he knelt on the floor. The thought was fleeting, as he leaned over the toilet gasping and heaving, emptying his stomach. His vision swam, too bright and too vivid and the swirling color made him sick again. His hands clutched the sides, knuckles white and arms trembling.

Breathing heavily, stomach finally calming, he spat into the toilet, too weak to get up and get a glass of water. He realized that the smell of the perfume that had spilled earlier and caused this entire problem did not reach into this small room. Fuzzily hating himself, Hannibal lowered himself to a semi comfortable sideways position on the floor, his eyes drooping shut before he even laid his head down. One arm still curled protectively around his tender stomach, he drifted to sleep, thinking there was something else he was supposed to do but having absolutely no energy to do whatever it might have been.

*

Hannibal was awoken some time later - hours? minutes? - by the faraway sound of knocking on a door. He opened his eyes and was confused for a moment about where he was. He sat up slowly, rubbing at the kink in his neck as he remembered why he was sitting in the bathroom. His throat burned and his stomach twisted unpleasantly at the memory.

His head still hurt, a searing pain now settled behind both of his eyes and pressing its way into every inch of his face. He wondered what time it was, if it was still light outside of his tiny haven. He felt like he was floating; fuzzy and confused. He heard the gentle scrape of the office door against the carpet and heard a soft voice calling to him.

_Will._

He had never actually cancelled his appointment.

Hannibal groaned, a small clipped sound, before he tried to stand up and greet Will. He had had some time to rest, surely he could handle Will’s session.It would be the polite thing to do since he had neglected to cancel properly. He moved to stand with footing that was unstable at best and he tried to catch himself on the edge of the sink, but ended up falling rather unceremoniously and taking the few containers of soap clattering down with him.

He winced at the knock on the door. This one was much closer and Hannibal knew Will was standing outside the bathroom door.

“Hannibal, is everything okay? I was waiting outside for a while and I got worried.”

“Will, everything is fine. Just…” He paused for a breath. “Give me one moment and I will be out.”

“Hannibal, you really don’t sound very good.”

Hannibal could not bring himself to answer Will. His head had begun to throb harshly again, worse than it had been before he had fallen asleep on the floor. Childishly, he brought his knees to his chest and clutched patches of his hair in his hands, clenching his eyes shut and willing the pain to stop.

“Hannibal, I’m going to come in.”

A few more moments of silence passed before Will pushed the door open a crack, blinking into the darkness.

Hannibal opened his eyes when he felt Will’s hand against his forehead, burgundy eyes meeting stormy gray.

“What’s wrong?” Will’s voice was soft and compassionate. Hannibal leaned into his touch despite himself, wanting nothing more than to curl up in the tones of his voice and be cared for by his soft hands.

“Migraine. A bad one.” Hannibal whispered, his voice rough. Will nodded, rubbing his thumb down one temple.

“You should have called me. I would have come. Have you taken anything?” Will’s hand strayed to Hannibal’s hair, gently coaxing him to loosen his grip. Hannibal complied, shaking his head in answer to Will’s question. “Okay, that’s fine. Let’s get you upstairs.”

Hannibal closed his eyes again at the thought of moving and tried to breathe steadily. With the door open, the scent of the spilled perfume was beginning to invade the small bathroom and Hannibal knew he would better off upstairs and in his bed, but that still left the daunting journey from point A to point B.

“Unless you don’t think you can leave yet.” Will spoke again, tentative and unsure. “I can...I can wait outside if you want me to.”

“No, I just need a moment. I fear I may not be able to stand by myself.” Hannibal’s voice was so quiet and small. He hated it. He hated it so much tears almost sprung to his eyes. He despised the way that his emotions fled from his control when he took ill.

“Are you dizzy or did you hurt something?” Will immediately began looking Hannibal over for other signs of injury before Hannibal put a stop to it.

“I am terribly lightheaded. I am otherwise unhurt.”

Will nodded, placing his hand on the back of Hannibal’s neck. “I’ll help you get upstairs, don’t worry about it.”

“Will, you do not need-”

“Clearly, I do. Besides, what are boyfriends for?”

Hannibal hummed his assent as he made to stand again, bracing himself against the sink until he was sure his footing was solid. Will’s hand was a light touch on the small of his back and Hannibal caught his breath while trying not to look in the mirror above him. He had no desire to see how his usually perfectly combed hair hung in a dishevelled mess or the creases in his usually pristine attire. Off balance, Hannibal took his first steps to the door of the bathroom, before stopping and clutching the frame for support. “Will?” He called out, ignoring the way his voice cracked on the single syllable.

“I’m right here, Hannibal. Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you, beloved.” Hannibal breathed, allowing himself to transfer most of his weight to Will.

They moved slowly, one step at time, until they were out of Hannibal’s office and into the grand foyer of his house. The sky outside was now blissfully dark, so there was no unwanted light tearing it’s way through the windows and into Hannibal’s searing head. He was always surprised at the duration of his headaches when he got them. He was sure that his brain was boiling inside his skull. There was no way that pain as acute as this should last so long.

The stairs were daunting for the pair of them, to say the least. Mercifully, they were wide enough for the two of them to stand side by side as they climbed, though Hannibal had to stop a handful of times to stop his head from spinning.

“Take your time. Just breathe. There’s no rush, we’ll get there soon and then you don’t have to move again for a while.” Will whispered soothing words into Hannibal’s ear as he clutched at the railing with a white knuckled grip. He swallowed back the fleeting nausea that accompanied the vertigo before making it up the last few steps. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, he let Will open his bedroom door before guiding him in.

Hannibal felt every touch Will placed on him magnified ten fold. It was as though every one of his senses were working in overdrive, and while Will’s touches were soothing and comforting, he wanted nothing more than to get in his bed and forget the world around him existed. He felt childish thinking in such a manner, but that was the truth of how he felt. Will sat him down on his bed and started to unknot his tie and unbutton his shirt. Hannibal allowed it, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Will’s curls - a much needed reprieve from the assault his nose had weathered all day.

Dressed now in silk pajamas, he watched numbly as Will turned down the blankets for him. The moment Hannibal’s head hit the pillow, he let out something between a gasp and a moan. He heard Will click his tongue as he covered him with the soft and cool blankets. Hannibal burrowed in as much as he could, wrapping the blankets around him as though they would protect him from any other outside pain getting in.

“Does your head still hurt?”

“A lot.” Hannibal heard himself croak.

“I’ll get you some water and some medicine and then I’ll get in bed with you so you can get some sleep, okay?”

Hannibal must have dozed while Will was gone, because a cold and slightly damp cloth on his forehead roused him back into consciousness. Will’s hand was on his back, helping him into a sitting position despite his body’s creaks and protests. He passed Hannibal a small handful of pills.

“Take these and drink most of the water. Slowly, though. Careful not to upset your stomach.” Hannibal nodded and took Will’s instructions, though he was sure Will knew that he was already aware of everything he was saying. It still felt nice to be cared for. Hannibal couldn’t remember the last time he had had someone to dote on him and make sure he was feeling better, someone to comfort him while he was feeling poorly.

As he worked on swallowing the water in his hands, Will’s hands worked up and down his back, kneading out the tension. The cool cloth was relocated to the back of his neck and he couldn’t help the sigh that drifted from his lips at the sensation. He finished off the water soon, but allowed Will to continue massaging the muscles in his shoulders and neck. He could no longer help the tears that sprang to his eyes, nor could he help the sniffling sob that escaped his throat. Will stopped what he was doing almost immediately to move from behind his back and look into Hannibal’s eyes.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you did not.”

“Does your head hurt that bad?” Will asked, his eyes pinching at the edges in a display of sympathy Hannibal could almost feel radiating off of him.

“No.”

“What’s wrong, Hannibal?”

“I have not had someone care for me like you are since I was very young. Since I was a boy.”

Will smiled, something small and shy before guiding Hannibal back down to the pillows. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Hannibal watched as Will toed off his shoes and removed his shirt and pants so he could slide into bed. He allowed Will to take some of the blankets from him, pleased when Will curled into him and snaked his hands up to play with his hair.

“I’ll always be here.” Will pressed a light kiss to each of his eyelids and one on his forehead, all the while continuing to twine his fingers into Hannibal’s hair, drawing small circles on his scalp. Hannibal sighed with the relief the slight pressure brought.

“Ačiū mano meile.” Hannibal breathed into Will’s palms before drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

*

The next morning, Hannibal awoke before Will did with a much clearer head. He offered up a silent thank you to a God he did not believe in that his migraine was not a two-day affair. He settled deeper in the bed, noting that he still had most of the blankets and Will had nearly none. He smiled slightly, his eyes trailing down Will’s bare torso, all the way down to the vee of his hips and the defined calf muscle that the thin fabric of his boxers did nothing to hide.

His mind wandered to the night before and the way his emotions had overcome him. He could still feel those emotions now, no less acute but much more in control. He was endlessly thankful for Will - completely enamored with the man in such a way that his own heart ached. No one had given him any modicum of care or concern since his parents and Mischa had gone, and Hannibal could almost see each of them as he looked at Will’s relaxed face. Hannibal watched him sleeping peacefully for a while before turning his head and kissing his wrists and palms where they were still entangled in his hair.

Will rose slowly, and Hannibal reveled in every moment of his awakening.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Thanks to you.”

“I really didn’t do much.” Will said, slithering closer into Hannibal’s arms.

“You did more than enough.”

Will pressed a few kisses to Hannibal’s chest. “You still feel tense, are you sure you’re feeling better.”

“I am certain, Will. My muscles are just a bit sore is all.”

“Do you need anything? Do you want me to give you another massage?”

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, weighing the probability of his suggestion. “I have another idea that could help my muscles to relax.”  
  
“What’s that? Tell me and I can do whatever you need.”

“Orgasm achieved through penetration is always a surefire way to drain any and all tension from a body.” Hannibal stated these words matter of factly, as though he was telling Will what was for breakfast.

“Oh, Hannibal, I don’t know if-”

“Will, please, I insist.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it? I don’t want to hurt you."

“Then take it slow. I want you to take care of me. I want to be cared for.” Hannibal said softly, a fire of softly glowing embers behind his eyes.

Will bit his lip and nodded. He understood Will’s apprehension - it was not often that he was on top. But whenever he was, it was always exquisite in Hannibal’s opinion.

“I’ll care for you.”

The words sent a shiver through Hannibal. Will pressed another kiss to his chest before encircling Hannibal in his arms, running his finger tips and finger nails across his back. Hannibal shifted in Will’s embrace as the other man moved to tongue and nip at his throat. All of his movements were slow and calculated and Hannibal drank down the sweetness on his lips when Will finally kissed him on the mouth. Hannibal let himself heave a heavy, hot breath against Will’s lips before reciprocating.

“Please, Will.” Hannibal breathed as he thread his fingers into Will’s hair and deepened the kiss. Will soon moved to kiss down his jaw and suckle at the already jumping pulse point in his neck.

“I said I was going to care for you. Let me.” Will breathed a husky whisper that Hannibal could not help but groan at. He let his head fall back against the pillows and felt anticipation growing in the bottom of his stomach as Will reached one hand into the bedside drawer and the other down his own boxers.

Hannibal slid himself out of his own pants and kicked the blankets away. He angled his hips so Will have perfect access to his entrance. His cock was already heavy with arousal; Will’s kisses and close proximity coupled with Hannibal’s devotion seeing to that.

He groaned openly and thrust himself forward when Will slid two slicked up fingers into the heat of his body. He could hardly control himself, hardly wait for more. But he knew it would be worth it to feel Will pulsing and thrusting inside him.

Hannibal smiled to himself. His muscles were already starting to relax.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of didn't follow through on the whole fucking into the next dimension, but I still hope this is enjoyable.


End file.
